Wand Across the Pond
by Team Rebel
Summary: When France gets caught in a magic fight between his daughter and his rival, nothing good is sure to follow.
1. Ribbit

**DISCLAIMER: I**** don't claim the ownership to**** _Hetalia_****. It belongs to ****Hidekaz Himaruya.**

* * *

Evangeline sighed. Ever since she'd recovered from her little hurricane incident, her father'd been dragging her around whenever he could. This time, they were going to visit England. Louisiana wasn't too fond of him, and neither was France. However, unlike France, she didn't want anything to do with the tea-sucker.

"Papa, is this really necessary?" she asked as her father knocked on the large door.

"It'll be funny, ma petite fille. Just watch."

A green-eyed Brit opened the door. "What do you want, Frog?" he asked, hostility seeping into his words.

Evangeline clutched her spell book. "Your mom!"

England looked her straight in the eye. "She's dead."

Francis petted his daughter's head. "I just wanted to interrupt your needlework." He smirked and shoved the Brit out of the way, letting himself and his daughter in.

"Do you have any wine, Angleterre?" he asked, stepping into the kitchen.

Evangeline rolled her eyes and followed her father. While she hated England, this was not the right way to go about everything. She could be doing better things. She could be drinking with her friends right now!

"Frog, get out!" Arthur yelled.

"Shut up, Tea-Sucker!" She tossed her book at his face. Just because she didn't want to be in England's home didn't mean she was going to miss the chance to aggravate him. When in Rome…

England dodged it.

France looked at his daughter with pride; even if she had missed, she was learning the art of annoying the blond nation.

Arthur picked up the book and looked at it. "Huh. I didn't know yo practiced magic, Louisiana." He smiled and handed the book back to her.

She nodded. "Yeah… so? What's it to you?"

England clapped her on the shoulder. "I can teach you a thing or two about it."

Evangeline shook him off and stood next to her father. "Are you insinuating that I don't know magic well?"

A frown replaced Arthur's smile. "I'm sure it's no match for _my_ magic," he said. Obviously, he had a high opinion of himself.

"I bet you I could beat you in a match. Or are ya _chicken_?" Evangeline smirked.

England brought out a wand from his sleeve. "Are you implying that I'm scared of you?" he snarled.

Uh-oh. This was bad. France held onto his daughter's shoulder. "I don't think this is a good idea," he whispered.

Louisiana took a vial of green liquid from out of her shoe. "This is hardly a fair fight. This is all I have. But you are not exactly fair, are you, England?" Her face twisted. "Go!"

She threw the vial towards him. At the same time, England pointed his wand. The green bolt from the wand and the green vial would have hit at the same time… had Francis not intercepted both of them.

"Shit," muttered Louisiana.

Francis disappeared in a wall of smoke.

"That was meant for you, Tea-Sucker," she called.

"Shuldn't you be more worried about your father?" he called back. He didn't like the Frog, but he didn't want him to be hurt. Then who would he fight with?

They waited in silence for the smoke to clear.

He wasn't hurt.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" cried Francis, looking down at himself.

He was simply… a little green frog.


	2. The Cure

Louisiana looked down at her Papa. She picked him up gently and cradled him. Tears welled in her eyes. "Oh, Papa! What has he done to you?"

"Excuse me?" said England. "You threw something. What was it?"

Evangeline blushed lightly. "What have _we_ done?" she corrected.

"I'm a frog!" cried Francis. "My beautiful self is a frog!"

"What's new?" England said, an awful smirk on his face.

"Why you!" Francis started wriggling to get free, but to no avail. Evangeline had him tightly clasped around the midsection.

"This is all your fault, Tea-Sucker! Just wait until I can get you! Just wait!" he yelled.

"I was provoked by your degenerate daughter!" Arthur spat.

"Excuse me? It was your stupid pride that got us into this mess!" Evangeline exclaimed.

"Well, I think it's a fitting change. The Frog is now a frog." He turned up his nose and crossed his arms.

The Frenchman… frog… the Frenchmanfrog flailed more violently, almost escaping.

"Let's face it, Papa, you're never getting outta my grip. Nobody knows more about catching critters than I do," Louisiana deadpanned.

Finally, France just stopped moving. "This is horrible," he muttered. He started sobbing violently onto his daughter's arm. "What do I do?"

Evangeline looked to England. "Well? What _do_ we do? You and I both know that he cannot possibly stay this way… no matter how funny you think this is." Her sadness had turned into determination.

"You should be an expert on this kind of thing. You're used to dealing with all sorts of slime." He smirked.

"Shut up, Tea-Sucker. Just shut up and help," she said, stepping forward and grabbing his arm, "or I will put a curse on you that will make you regret existing."

The Brit shivered. She looked dead serious about that one.

"Okay, okay!" he said, yanking his arm to his side. "I will help you. But you must do me a favor."

She sighed. Of course. When dealing with magic, there was almost always another side to the deal.

"Stay away from me… for the next hundred years. There. Good?" She really was obnoxious when she was around. And she liked to show off her cooking skills more than anyone he'd ever met. Well, not more than the Frog. But almost.

"Done!" she exclaimed. She darted her hand forward, shaking his eagerly. She didn't really want to be around, anyway.

"Okay. Follow me," he said. He headed past the living room. He climbed a tall, winding staircase, and then took a left. The hall was eerily long, and the lights were out at the end.

"In here," he directed.

Evangeline clutched her father more tightly. It was dark in there.

"Go on, ma cherie. Go," Francis said impatiently.

Evangeline stepped inside, and England scooted after her.

The Brit grabbed a match and a candle. "Follow me," he said, striking one up. He lit the candle and then extinguished the match, throwing it to the ground. He walked around the center of the room, which appeared to be a rather large library… which was rather strange, considering it was dimly lit. The Brit felt along the wall of books, until he seemed to find the tome he he had been looking for. He pulled on it, and, at the back of the room, a staircase going down appeared. England removed the book, which coincidentally (and conveniently) was titled _Animal Transformations_.

The two followed him—well, Evangeline followed while cradling her bawling father—onto the staircase. They went down deep—past the first floor, at least—until they finally reached what appeared to be England's basement.

"Alright, let's see," England said, opening the book. "Frog, frog, fro—ahh! Here we are!" he exclaimed. "Let's see what we need to do to fix this." He read for a moment.

Evangeline bit her lip nervously.

England frowned. "This doesn't look good," he said.

"What? What is it?" said Francis fretfully.

"What?" Louisiana asked sarcastically. "Does he have to get a kiss or something?"

England nodded. "This is serious! If he doesn't get a kiss from someone by tomorrow at sundown, he'll stay like this forever!"

"One of us can kiss him," she said.

"Here's the catch," he whispered gravely. "That person has to believe in magic… and love him."


	3. To Ukraine

Pas de problème." The Frenchmanfrog smirked and hopped down from his daughter's arms. "The ladies love me!"

England shook his head. "No. It has to be true love," he sighed. "And how will you get a girl to love you in your current state?" The Brit leaned down, and held up a flipper. "You're slimy and green… not that it's much of a change from your usual self."

"Shut up!" cried Francis. "This is no time to be making jokes!"

England shook his head. "Let me think." He got quiet for a moment. "How about Ukraine?" he said finally.

The Frenchmanfrog smirked. "Heheh. Ukraine. I like her. But why her?" he asked.

"She's a very loving person," England pointed out, "and she must believe in magic! She is Russia's sister, after all."

Francis nodded his froggy head. "I suppose… I mean, there's nobody else. And she can't be that bad."

England nodded. "I can teleport us there now."

Evangeline frowned. "Won't that take a lot of energy?"

England nodded. "Yes, but we have to do it." He picked up the Frenchmanfrog and held onto Evangeline. "To Ukraine!" He flicked his wand, and poof! They were in someone's old, raggedy house.

"Are we in the right place?" asked Evangeline. This didn't look like a nation's house.

"I believe so," said England. He wasn't so sure himself.

Just then, a busty woman poked her head through the kitchen doorway, which was to the right of where the three were standing. She let out a mortified scream.

"Shhh, shhh!" hissed Evangeline. "Ukraine, we need your help."

Ukraine looked up. "W-with what?" Tears were welling at the corners of her eyes.

"We need you to love Francis," said England, showing her the Frenchmanfrog.

"You see, England here—well, England and _I_—put a spell on Papa. And now he's a frog," explained Evangeline urgently. "He needs a kiss from someone who loves him and believes in magic. We figured you could help…" she said, her voice trailing off.

Ukraine shook her head sympathetically. "I-I can try," she said warily.

"Please, ma cherie. Please?" he said kindly. He hopped off of England's hand and looked up at the big-breasted blonde. "Please help a poor frog?"

She smiled and picked him up. "You are kind of cute," she said shyly.

"Merci!" he said excitedly. Ukraine was nice enough, right? She could love him, right?

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Ukraine opened it, frog in hand.

"Privet. I have come for your gas bill!" said the Russian.

"I don't have it!" She slammed the door and started bawling.

The Russian opened the door back up. "Is that England?" he stepped inside. "Arthur! Evangeline!" he said fondly. "How are you two?"

France cowered closer to Ukraine's hand. It was cold outside.

"We need to have your sister for a day," said England flatly. He was shaking.

"Why?" asked Ivan. Anger started to rim his voice.

"She needs to kiss France," said the Brit.

Ivan stood there, calm and collected. A purple aura started surrounding him. "It won't happen. You'll be leaving, da?"

"I'm sorry." Ukraine gave the Frog back to Evangeline. "This won't work." She was terrified of Ivan sometimes. This was one of those times.

"Get out." The aura grew into a dark purple.

"To England!" England clasped Evangeline's hand and flicked his wand. They were soon back in England's lair.

He frowned. "It looks like it's getting late. You two should get some rest." He showed them to the guest room, and brought France a glass of water. "Good night," he muttered. "I'll figure something out." Arthur flicked out the light. "I hope…"


	4. Scuffles

Evangeline was woken up by screaming.

"What iz happening to me?" screeched Francis.

Suddenly, she remembered where she was. She turned on the lamp to see a terrifying sight. Her father was flailing in a frog-body, and his skin looked… dry.

"Help me! Help me!" he shrieked. "It burns! It burns!"

Evangeline leaped out of bed and was about ready to run downstairs, when she noticed a glass of water sitting by her bed. Of course! That's why it was there! She picked up her squirming father, and dipped him gently in the liquid. Immediately, he stopped flailing.

"Ahh… zhat feels nice," he sighed, relieved.

"What's going on?" Arthur demanded, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he barged in.

"Papa had a problem, but we fixed it," she said, smiling drily. She was glad for all of Arthur's help, but this whole ordeal was mostly his fault, after all.

"Hmm… well next time, see if you can solve the problem more quietly," he advised.

"Excuse me?" she said angrily. "Papa could have _died_."

France was peering out of the glass quietly. He was too busy holding his breath.

"Well, that's what I gave you the glass of water for. So he could sleep in it! He can't afford to be any flakier than he already is.

Louisiana held her breath, too. _Count to ten mentally, and it will be alright,_ she thought to herself. _One, two, three, four—_

"I mean, he's so… useless! He's no better than that Italy!"

Louisiana swung blindly. Any form of fighting experience she had gained seemed to seep away, though. She was too angry.

England backed away at first, soon started swinging back. This wasn't how he wanted his night to go, but it looked like he didn't have a choice. As soon as he saw an opening , he had the French girl down on the ground in a hammerlock.

"Don't try that with me, Frog Princess. I'm many centuries older than you."

Louisiana went limp under his hold. She was absolutely humiliated. How could she lose a fight?

He chuckled darkly. "Child, I've fought more battles than you can count," he whispered, standing up. "It's almost morning. You may as well get up." He stalked out the room and up the hall.

Louisiana stayed on the ground. She couldn't lose! She never lost… at least, not when she was fighting. She could even hold her own against New York! Well, those always ended in a tie, but still! How could she lose a fight?

"Ma petite fille, get up," demanded France.

Evangeline stood on command.

"Don't feel bad. He's got a history of beating me. Besides, you're a state. He's a country."

"You're only saying that because you need his help!" she said angrily. "Where is your pride?"

He sighed. "Child, you must understand this: I am completely in his hands. We have very little time. And I do _not_ want to be stuck like zhis forever. I'm hideous.

Louisiana sighed. "Well, I guess we should go downstairs."

Francis nodded sadly. He gestured with his… flipper… paw… things to be picked up.

The Louisianan clasped the glass in her hands as she carefully walked downstairs and into the kitchen, where England was cooking one of his horrid meals.

"Are you hungry?" he asked cheerily, seeming to have forgotten the little scuffle. "I made scones!"

"No thank you," Evangeline politely declined.

Arthur chuckled. "Your loss, Eva."

Evangeline looked him directly in the eye. "Evangeline. Only Papa and big brother Romano can call me Eva."

England looked back at her, slightly taken aback. "Romano? Brother…?"

"I always considered him my brother," she admitted. "After all, we were both under Spanish rule. At different times, but still. I've heard enough stories about him to make one believe I was his own mother." She sighed. "I miss him. He used to visit me all the time when I lived with Spain. Well, he was visiting Spain, but he still talked to me sometimes." She shook her head. "What's it mean to you?"

Arthur chuckled. "I forgot about that. You were under that Spanish bastard's rule, weren't you?"

"Don't talk about my other father that way," she growled.

"Other father?" he prodded. "You only really need one father… unless… oh, that's right… he abandoned you!"

"Enough!" she shouted. "England, we need your help, but we also need you to cooperate!" She drew a knife from her sleeve. "Do you understand me?"

The sun began to rise, in spite of the angry atmosphere.

"Listen," he sighed nonchalantly, "I was only teasing." He smirked. "You wouldn't dare mess with a retired pirate, would you?

"You wouldn't mess with an old privateer, would you?" she countered.

He chuckled again. "Darling, you're easy. And I mean that in every sense of the word."

"Arthur, let her be!" screeched the Frenchmanfrog, hopping our of his little glass. "You're not being fair. Your quarrel has always been with me!"

England sighed. "I suppose you're right, Frog."

Evangeline still fumed.

"Calm down, bébé," said France soothingly. He hopped onto her shoulder. "Shh…"

She sighed. "Okay, Papa." She glared at England as he finished off his scones.

Francis finally broke the silence. "What are we going to do, England?"

England grinned. "Today, Francis, we are going to find some random stranger to love you."


End file.
